


Are You Gonna Be My Girl

by sissannis



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/F, Fluff, fleurmione - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-02
Updated: 2017-12-02
Packaged: 2019-02-09 11:32:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,785
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12886965
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sissannis/pseuds/sissannis
Summary: Getting lost isn't so bad.





	Are You Gonna Be My Girl

**Author's Note:**

  * For [midnightweeds](https://archiveofourown.org/users/midnightweeds/gifts).



> Been wanting to write Fleurmione and Weeds fed me her accidental meeting with The Babe. hence, based on true story and more, I present you this.

* * *

“Delacour!”

Fleur raised her eyes from her phone. “ _Oui, Madame Maxime?_ ”

Madame Maxime pinched the bridge of her nose. “No French in meeting, Delacour. And stop playing with your phone.”

“Is this how you Frenchies do meeting? Incompetence and rude to your client? Playing phone in my fucking face?”

Fleur locked her phone as she straightened her back in her seat. She smiled flirtatiously at Draco Malfoy, their client. “I’m so sorreh. I wuz replying work mails,” her hand reaching his from across the table, “I know ez rude, but work iz work, non? _Désolée, monsieur._ ”

Without waiting for a reply she leaned toward him, her body pressed against the table, “Forgive me, Mr. Malfoy?”

She saw Draco’s eyes fixed on her revealed cleavage and held her impending eye roll. _Men._

“Of course. Only if you give me your number, madam-oh-sale,” he leered as he leaned forward, getting as close as he could to her.

 _Mademoiselle, you cowdung_ , she thought with a sweet smile, inwardly patting herself for not saying it out loud.

“Oh, zank you!” She sat back and jotted down a phone number on a piece of paper. “Call me only at night, _monsieur_.”

Draco took the paper and winked. “Alright, Maxime. I think we’re done here.”

“The meeting?”

“Adjourned. I trust your creative director—” he checked Fleur out appreciatively once more, “ーwill manage.”

Once he was out of the room, Madame Maxime scolded Fleur for being unprofessional.

“Did you give someone my number again?! Did youー you know what? Nevermind. I’m tired. Get me coffee, Delacour.” She sat back and fanned herself with one of the magazine. “And Fleur, love, please. Stop pretending like you can’t speak proper English.”

“Ze men found et alluring, Madame,” she sang while packing her stuff. Seeing her editor’s narrowed eyes, she sighed. “Fine. I’ll speak fluently. Jolly good?”

“Coffee, Fleur,” was all the reply she got.

* * *

She got lost.

She just arrived last week, exclusively requested by Madame Maxime for this month's issue. The Malfoy was known widely as demanding everything-must-be-as-I-ask-or-better pricks even in France. Ergo, their editor sought after her best director ー Fleur Delacour of Paris' branch. She could feel the coffee now turned warm after the fifth time she came back in a round to the lobby.

Frustrated, she caved in and finally asked someone. “Excuse me!”

The lady in black leather pants and white tee turned to her. “Yes?”

 _“Est-ce que tu as un plan? Je me suis perdu dans tes yeux,_ ” she blurted out the cheesiest pickup line before she could stop herself. She felt like jumping from the highest building and just die of embarrassment, there, splattered on the road.

The lady blushed and Fleur’s heart was racing so fast, she worried the lady could hear her. _Does she speak French? Holy merde she does! Does she? Oh no, she does!_

“Excuse me?”

 _Doesn’t._ She cleared her throat, slowly gaining her confidence back and smiling sweetly as she said, “Can you please tell me which way to room 101? I just transferred here last week and I’m still not used to this building.”

The lady smiled brilliantly, shooing the other two men she was talking to to get their works done. She put on her leather jacket, studded at the back with Guns n Roses emblem plastered on it.

“You’re the French girl,” she said as she pulled out her curls from the jacket.

 _Venus_. Fleur thought she saw Venus, standing with her brown curls with honey-coloured streaks, a rose on her back, and a very suggestive black leather pants as it hugged her perfect round arse, ー that she could vouch for ー  bending down to get her bag, blessing her with her presence. Fleur thought she found her religion.

“Hello?” The highest Goddess Venus called her.

“Yes! Meeting room 101, please!” Fleur resisted bowing.

Venus cocked her head slightly to the side and didn’t hide her obvious assessment on her.

She felt naked under her beautiful, intelligent brown eyes but did nothing to stop her roaming eyes. She welcomed it.

“I’ll walk with you. I’m going to the same direction anyway,” she jerked her head to said direction as she started walking.

Fleur, still couldn’t form a sentence, nodded and walked faster to match her speed.

“Heard Draco is your client,” Venus looked at her with mirth shone in her eyes, “Did he pull the _“my father will hear about this”_ card?”

She almost dropped Madame Maxime’s coffee. She swore she saw her eyes twinkling, literally, like stars on a clear night sky. She was no stargazer but she didn’t mind taking a full four years course on Astronomy to gaze at _that_.

“He didn’t. Mostly because I pulled my card first,” she puffed her breasts out and Venus laughed. _Heavenly._ Then she realized, she called him by his first name. “You know him.”

Venus smirked and nodded, “We went to the same boarding school. I smacked his face in our third year, so there’s that.”

It was Fleur’s turn to laugh.

“He kinda remind you of a ferret, doesn’t he?”

Fleur laughed more, her head tilted back and her golden blonde hair bouncing as she shook her head. She knew of course. She made sure it bounced. And Venus’ obvious staring flattered her so much she couldn’t stop grinning like a goofball.

Once they’ve reached room 101, Venus jerked her head to the other side and pointed out the elevator. “That’s me.”

“Which floor?”

“Not this floor,” she answered smartly, pressing the up button.

_Two can play the game._

She got into the elevator and Fleur held the door open, “Thank you.”

The lady just looked at her appraisingly without a word, and Fleur, quite disappointed at her silence, let go of the door and sighed. She was about to stepped into the meeting room when she heard her euphonious voice.

“This building doesn’t have a map, but ー”

Fleur’s ivory cheeks turned pink instantly, remembering the cheesy picked up line that she had blurted out before. _She does speak French!_

“ー I don’t mind being your map if it means I can see you again.”

It was cheesy. Cringe worthy cheesy. But it worked. It absurdly worked. It was enough to melt her right there, in front of Venus, and just sprawled on the floor like a molten cheese or whatever, she didn’t give a damn. She melted.

She jumped into the elevator right before the door shut. “Hi.”

Venus leaned sideway against the rail, facing her. “Hi, Fleur.”

Fleur eyes widened at the mention of her name, “How did youー”

“Pretty and smart thing like you?” She chuckled, “Hard to miss.”

Fleur hummed and got herself under control after her admittance, knowing she felt the attraction as much as she did. “Venus.”

“Venus?”

“You’re Venus.”

“Like the Roman goddess?”

“Of beauty. Yes.”

Venus looked at her and laughed, tucking her brown curls behind her ear. “Okay.” She moved closer to her, sliding her hand behind her on the rail and whispered, “Hermione. Like the rose.”

Fleur tightened her hold on the cup that she had completely forgotten about, shivering at their shortened distance. _Desire_. That was what she’s been feeling ever since she saw her in her sinful tight leather pants. “Hermione.”

“Hermione,” Hermione repeated before she bit Fleur’s ear softly. “I thought you have meeting to attend, Fleur,” she moved to kissing her neck.

“Non,” she closed her eyes, tilting her head for better access. It was maddening. She felt light-headed. It could be from the moving elevator, or, it could be, which Fleur believed it was, because of the ridiculous amount of overflowing sexual tension in the enclosed space.

Fleur lifted her hand, wanting to feel the softness of Hermione’s cheek, but she caught her hand just before she touched her, startling Fleur.

When Fleur looked into her eyes, her expression was intense, almost threatening.

For a moment, Fleur thought maybe she was angry, maybe she has gotten too far. But before she could ponder it further, Hermione yanked her closer and covered her mouth with her own in a hungry kiss. She responded immediately, surprising herself. Her mouth was so warm, the caress of her lips softer than she could have imagined. Hermione tasted tentatively with her tongue, and Fleur opened her mouth with a low moan.

Fleur dropped the cup and ignored the spilled coffee on her heels as she moved further into Hermione, standing between her legs and running her fingers through her curls.

Hermione pulled her body back a little and pushed Fleur’s skirt up to her waist, digging her small fingers into her silky thigh. She had just reached her satin thong when the _ding_ sound of the elevator echoed their hazy ears.

Both of them jumped apart, and fixed themselves hastily.

The door opened to none other than Draco Malfoy.

Draco studied their appearances ー panting and smeared lipsticks ー and raised an eyebrow when he saw the spilled coffee. He raised his head, grimacing as he gotten the idea of their hot activity.

“Damn it, Hermione! I found her first!”

Hermione snickered as she pulled Fleur closer to her, resting her chin on her shoulder. “She’s mine.”

Fleur stopped paying attention. The feel of Hermione’s breasts on her back made her burrowed deeper into her hold, wanting to feel more.

“Fuck, she’s hot. And fuck you, Granger!” Draco pressed another level for them, “And don’t forget to get me a model for the project, Delacour!”

The door closed, and not wanting to waste another second, Fleur turned and peppered her open mouth on Hermione’s throat. “Hey,” she said in between her biting, “can you be my model?”

Hermione chuckled over her moans, “Can we do this again?”

Fleur pulled back, locking her blue eyes with her brown, holding her neck with her hands as her thumbs rubbing her cheeks softly. “This,” she kissed her nose and moved her hands down deliberately to her round arse that has been begging to be spanked, “and more.” She spanked her.

Hermione groaned at the slight pain, “Then, you found yourself a model.”

The door once again opened, and it seemed like they’ve reached Hermione’s floor correctly this time. She pulled her out and they practically ran to wherever Hermione taking her to. She didn’t care. This thing between them, it was fast and hot, melting her over and over again. And the world melted with her.

And when Hermione pushed her into one of the empty conference room, pulling her blouse up and nipped on her perky nipple, she hoped, she wished, she prayed, that this captivating being will always be her Venus. She would make sure of it.

* * *

 

  



End file.
